Show Me the Side Streets in Your Life
by easternepiphany
Summary: But Ann makes bad decisions about men. And Tom, for as long as she's known him, has made bad decisions about women. Maybe this whole relationship is a bad decision that they made because they don't know how to do anything else.


It's not until after the election and when Leslie goes to D.C. for the weekend to help Ben move into his new apartment that Ann realizes how Leslie-centric her life has been.

And that's not a bad thing. Ann loves Leslie, loved helping her win the election, loves her happiness with Ben. And this whole Washington thing, it sucks, it really does, and as soon as Leslie gets back Ann will be there with wine and a shoulder to cry on. But for now, with a full weekend stretched out before her, Ann doesn't really know what to do with herself.

She thinks about going out for a drink but decides against it, opting for sweatpants and tea and a Lifetime movie instead. It's nice to be by herself for a while; she loves her friends but they're _always around_ and while Ann thrives on caring for people, it's overwhelming to actually do it twenty-four hours a day.

Two movies later, she's half-asleep, despite the fact that it's barely ten, and when the doorbell rings she thinks she's dreaming for a minute. It rings again and she rolls off the couch and shuffles to the door.

Tom stands on her doorstep, a sheepish expression on his face and a bouquet of carnations in his hand. "Hey, cupcake."

There are a few things Ann notices about this situation. One: the flowers are yellow carnations and not red anything. Two: Tom is wearing a polo shirt and jeans. Three: His eyebrows aren't cocked and his mouth isn't smirking. Four: she opens the door wider and motions for him to come in.

"What are you doing here, Tom?"

He hands her the flowers. "These are for you. I thought you might be lonely." He says it so simply, so matter-of-factly that she knows it's not a line. So she can't help but smile as she takes the bouquet from him and goes into the kitchen to put them in a vase.

"I also wanted to talk to you," he says from the couch. "About us."

After the post-election drunkenness had worn off, they both decided to ignore any ridiculous things they had said to each other. Which was fine with Ann, since she couldn't remember any of it anyway, aside from saying the word "pardner" an awful lot.

She sighs on her way back to the living room. "Tom, I don't know." She plops down on the couch, leaving an entire cushion between them. "It's late and I still don't know if we're such a good idea."

She waits for the "_Noooo!_" or the Boyz II Men song or the begging. But they never come. There's some sort of weird stranger on her couch and it's not Tom Haverford. He nods and turns his gaze to the movie on the television. He watches it for a few minutes and she watches him and truthfully, this whole thing is freaking her out a little and maybe she is dreaming after all.

A discreet pinch of her arm tells her that's not true.

"Are you okay?" she asks. "You're acting weird."

He turns to her and clucks his tongue, waving his arms in the air, and Tom is back. "No, _Ann_, I'm not okay. You broke my heart! All I want is to be with you!"

"Is that why you came over here tonight?" Ann asks. "Because you wanted to get back together?"

"No. Yes. I don't know," he mumbles. "I did figure you'd be lonely with Leslie gone but I also kind of miss you and thought maybe you'd at least want to be friends."

"We _are_ friends."

He shakes his head and Ann wishes she'd never answered the door. She's more confused about her dating life than she has been in a really long time because while most of the time she wants to strangle Tom, she actually really likes him, too.

But Ann makes bad decisions about men. And Tom, for as long as she's known him, has made bad decisions about women. Maybe this whole relationship is a bad decision that they made because they don't know how to do anything else.

"Tell me about Wendy," she says, scooting a little closer to him.

Tom just looks at her for a few seconds before taking a deep breath. And he tells her. He tells her how they met in college and how she dated one of his roommates on and off for a while. How they got along really well and after graduation, when she was scared she'd be deported since she couldn't secure a visa, he offered to marry her. How he didn't realize he was in love with her until after they got divorced. How he didn't realize that love was laughing with someone and wanting to tell them about your day and feeling better when they're around. How he never felt worse about himself than when he saw her with Ron. How he still misses her, sometimes, because she was there every day until she wasn't.

She listens, nods in the right places, wonders what it must feel like to love someone so wholly and simply that you don't even notice it. It's the longest she's heard him go without making some sort of inappropriate comment and when he's done talking she's not entirely sure how to respond.

"Thank you for telling me all that," she says quietly.

He shrugs.

His arm is draped over the back of the couch and she moves even closer, flush against his side, and rests her head on his chest. "I don't know what I'm doing here," she says.

"It looks to me like you're trying to snuggle up on me," he whispers in her ear and she laughs.

"That's not what I mean."

"So Ann Perkins is turned on by heartbreak. I'll have to remember that. I have a ton more stories about being turned down. This could go all night."

She smacks his stomach and he whines a little. "We argue _all the time._ And we break up _all the time_. And sometimes you're a jerk. But then sometimes you bring me yellow carnations and make me laugh and I like being around you. I'm confused and maybe you have to let me be confused for a little while."

"What about when you got drunk and wanted to get back together?"

"Have you ever seen me drunk? I tend to do some pretty stupid stuff."

He runs his hand over her hair before moving to stand up. "Okay, girl. Be confused. But maybe you could meet me at the Snakehole for drinks tomorrow night. You don't have to answer now but I'll be there and if you want to show up, you can. If you don't, you don't."

Ann stares up at him and wonders if this is what Tom is like when he's serious about something. He drops a kiss on her forehead and walks to the door.

"Goodnight, Annberry Sauce," he says. He smiles at her before closing the door behind him.

* * *

(One time, Ann checks her matches on when a notification pops up saying she has an 85% match. When she clicks, she sees Tom M. Haverford staring back at her. She rolls her eyes and forgets about it. But during one quiet night shift, she types "Haverford" into the computer and from the hospital records comes up "HAVERFORD, THOMAS MONTGOMERY – Admitted in June 2008 for tonsillitis."

She deletes her account and doesn't tell anyone, not even Leslie.)

* * *

Ann spends the next day replying to Leslie's picture messages of herself in front of every monument on the National Mall and wondering if she should go meet Tom. She doesn't ask Leslie for advice, doesn't want to cut into her limited Ben-time. But she's about to text him to say she isn't coming when the carnations catch her eye from the kitchen counter and she sighs and changes out of her sweatpants.

Tom's sitting at the bar when she gets there, nursing a beer. There's another bottle waiting in front of the stool next to him and when she slides into her seat she wraps her hands around it gratefully. "Thanks for the drink."

His eyes light up when he sees her and it's nice to inspire that kind of reaction in someone. "Anything for you, boo."

"I also didn't get to thank you for the flowers last night. They're beautiful."

"Beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl," he drawls.

They laugh over Leslie's photos and at other people in the bar and after a few drinks, Tom grabs her hand and says, "Dance with me."

They move to the center of the dance floor and alcohol buzzes through Ann's bloodstream. The music pulses and Tom's hands are on her hips and soon they're kissing, making out like teenagers in front of the whole club. Ann's good at this part of a relationship: the fun part. It's the serious part, the part that matters, she doesn't know what to do with.

"Come over?" Tom whispers and she hesitates. "Just for kissing and snuggling, I swear."

He hails them a cab and _god_ she's missed his apartment. He finds her a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt to change into ("Tom Haverford owns _sweatpants_?" "I want my lady guests to be comfy." "Gross.") and they make out on the couch, Ann straddling him, her thighs squeezing his hips. This isn't what she expected when she left the house tonight, but that's a common theme in her relationship with Tom. She finds herself acting in ways she never thought she would; the first day they met he hit on her while wearing a wedding ring and three years later here they are.

Here she is.

As promised it never goes further than kissing and they both fall asleep in a pile of cashmere throws. Ann wakes up in the middle of the night and Tom's hand is curled around hers and before her eyes close again she thinks that this might not be that bad.

* * *

(During April's 21st birthday party, Ann ends up at the bar taking shots with Tom. He's been trying to hook up with one of the dozens of girls he invited and she's been trying to forget about another failed relationship, this one with a guy who was perfect for her on paper.

"What's wrong with us, Tom?" she asks loudly.

"There is _nothing_ wrong with us," he slurs. "Nothing! We are attractive, interesting people, and one day you and I are both going to find people who see that."

Ann scoffs and does another shot.

"Hey, what about if we do one of those things where if we're still single when we're 40 we get married?"

"Oh my god," Ann groans. "Goodbye, Tom.")

* * *

When she wakes up in the morning Ann finds take-out from JJ's on the kitchen table. "When did you get this?" she asks, sitting down and opening a container of pancakes.

"When you were still sleeping, all cute and snuggly." Tom dives into his egg-white omelette with a grin. "Hey, I'm so glad you came last night, boo."

"I had a lot of fun, actually," she says. "With everything that's been going on lately, it's been a while since I've gone out like that."

Tom stirs milk into his coffee. "I don't know how you do it, girl. Working at City Hall, working at the hospital, front and center during every part of Leslie's campaign. You're like Superwoman. Super Ann."

Ann stops mid-chew and stares at him. Swallows. "What?"

"Oh please. You have to know how great you are."

A smile spreads across Ann's face. Tom doesn't notice because his attention is firmly on his breakfast. "Last night I had a dream that Entertainment 720 wasn't dead and me and Jean Ralphio threw a party on a space ship. You and I made sweet, sweet love in zero gravity. It was pretty dope. Hey, you wanna have a picnic today?"

They get more take-out from JJ's (because someone has to keep the diner in business while Leslie's out of town) and spread a blanket down in Lot 48.

"Do you think this place is ever going to be a park?" Ann asks.

Tom scoffs. "No way, sweetheart. Have you _seen_ the plans that Brendanawicz drew up? That thing is elaborate. Pawnee doesn't have that kind of money and Leslie's going to settle for nothing less than perfect."

"Mark drew plans for the park?"

"Ooooh, sorry, I forgot about Anndanawicz. Forget I mentioned it."

Ann shakes her head. "No, no, it's okay. It was better that Mark and I broke up."

"Why? Were you into me even back then?"

"I'm ignoring that second question," she says pointedly. "We weren't good together. Mark is a really, really sweet guy and I loved being around him, but our relationship was boring. There wasn't any passion. It was like we had been married for forty years. I don't want to go through the motions in my thirties."

"You have to admit, baby girl, our relationship is anything but boring and passionless."

"I know," she mumbles.

Tom sets down his fork. "Look, Ann, I know you said you're confused and that's okay. But what is it that you actually want? You and I, we have everything you just said you didn't have with Mark. I really like you and obviously you like me at least a little bit. You don't have to decide right now, but maybe you should take the next couple days and think about it. Maybe I should go."

Ann watches as he packs up his take-out containers and stands up. "Just remember that my heart beats _Ann Ann Ann_, okay?"

She nods and he gives her a sad look before walking away. It's the second time he's walked out on her this weekend and Ann finishes her French fries alone. Lot 48 seems a lot bigger and quieter with him gone.

* * *

(Ann runs into Mark at the grocery store one afternoon and it's awkward and uncomfortable and everything running into an ex usually is. She plasters a smile on her face and makes small talk, asks about his new job, gives her best to his parents. They say their goodbyes and she's about to walk away when he grabs her arm.

"Are you… I'm sorry, but are you really going out with Tom?"

"Mark, don't," she says.

He holds his hands up defensively. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. It just doesn't make sense to me but if you're happy, I… I just want you to be happy, Ann.")

* * *

Ann picks Leslie up from the airport that night and her confusion over Tom takes a backseat to Leslie's heartbreak. "It's okay, right? It'll be fine. It's totally cool and time will fly by. Whooosh there it goes, ten seconds just went by."

"Leslie, trust me. Ben loves you and you love him. If anyone can make this work, it's you guys. You're already going to go back down there in a couple weeks, right? And you'll be so busy with the Parks department and City Council that you won't even have time to miss him. And I'll be here and whenever you _do_ miss him, just come over and we can talk about it or not talk about it."

"Ann, you're the best most wonderful friend in the history of time," Leslie coos. "What did you do this weekend?"

Ann bites her lip and concentrates too much on making a left-hand turn. "I uh, hung out with Tom. All weekend."

"Oh," Leslie says. "I didn't realize you guys were back together."

"We're not. He came over on Friday night with flowers and jeans and he's trying _so hard_, more than any other guy I've ever dated."

Leslie pauses for a moment, looks thoughtful. "I've known Tom for a long time. And yeah, most of the time he's a giant asshat. But he's also sweet and nice and he's a good guy. He really cares about you, Ann. And no guy out there will ever try hard as hard as Tom's going to try."

Ann doesn't reply and the rest of the trip is silent. She pulls into Leslie's driveway and gets out to help her with her bags. "You gonna be okay here alone?" she asks, gathering Leslie into a hug.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Be gentle with Tom, okay? He's got a fragile little heart." She smiles. "We'll have lunch together tomorrow, okay?"

* * *

(It doesn't take long for Ann to become totally obsessed with Tom's apartment. The place is an Ann Perkins paradise and soon, Ann insists they hang out there instead of at her house. One day, when she's scheduled to work at the hospital, she calls in sick, waits until Tom's left for work, and then sneaks over and spends the day on his couch. She puts her feet up and eats ice cream and watches TV.

An hour before she knows he'll be home, she cleans up and erases any evidence that she was ever there. The blankets are folded and the spoon is washed and she still has a good half-hour before she needs to leave so she snoops through his dresser drawers. Inside the top drawer is a photo album filled with pictures of Tom as a child, posing with people Ann assumes are his parents and grandparents. He's so tiny and cute and she spends twenty-five minutes flipping through the book. She forgets that she needs to leave and is only reminded when she gets a text from Tom saying that he's working late and maybe they can have dinner when her shift is over. She texts back saying that's fine and stays for another fifteen minutes, memorizing baby Tom's smile.)

* * *

The next week at work, Ann avoids the Parks department and instead has lunch in her office with Leslie. She doesn't linger in the hallways or the parking lot, doesn't buy afternoon tea at the coffee cart. She sees Andy, sees Donna, sees Ron, sees April, and sees Jerry, but Tom never crosses her path and she wonders if he's avoiding her, too. She wouldn't really blame him, not after the back and forth she pulled all weekend.

On Friday she works a twelve-hour shift at the hospital and gets off a little after seven. There's an orange carnation on her windshield, tucked neatly under the wiper. She gets in the car, drives to Tom's, and pounds on his door.

"Don't say anything," she commands when he opens up. "I don't really understand why but I like you a lot. And sometimes you're a giant jerk and I want to punch you in the face. And other times you're sweet and we have a lot of fun. I'm not going to break up with you every day, though. So you have to help me out a little bit. You can't call radio stations and talk about our sex life. You can't bring condoms in to work. You can't get mad over my taste in bedding. And you cannot, _cannot_ ever tell Jean Ralphio anything about me ever ever ever. Because those text messages he sent me were way too specific to be random."

"Can I talk yet?" he asks. He's fighting to keep a straight face so hard it's not even believable. Ann nods. "I will be the best boyfriend you've ever seen in your entire life. But remember who you're dealing with. If you're going to be Tommy's Girl, if I'm going to be Ann's Man, you get what you get."

"Fair enough."

"Can I kiss you now?"

"Shut up." She leans in and places her lips on his.

* * *

On Monday, Tom walks into work wearing a polo shirt that says "ANN'S MAN" in rhinestones. Ann takes a picture and makes it her desktop wallpaper.


End file.
